


Soul Searching

by aries_taurus



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Absolution, Angst, Confessions, Gen, Introspection, Post 9x10, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aries_taurus/pseuds/aries_taurus
Summary: Steve doesn’t understand why, on Christmas Eve, after Joe’s funeral, he’s walking into confession for the first time in over twenty years, in a church he’s never been to, in a village he doesn’t know, in a place he’s never visited.





	Soul Searching

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE NOTES BEFORE READING.  
> I'm aware religion is a delicate subject. I'm aware Catholicism carries negative values in regards to women'S rights and homosexuality. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS. THIS STORY ISN'T ABOUT THAT.  
> Some Catholic churches have progressed on this, but not enough. As a rule, I am AGAINST organized religion. I was raised Catholic, until my grandmother died. Here is why:
> 
>  
> 
> I am NOT a religious person. As a Quebecois, I grew up Catholic. Catholicism is the religion of 90% of the population but in the 60′s people massively walked out of churches and left religion. It is called the Quiet Revolution. It is now to the point where in my generation,(GenX) people hardly marry, no one goes to Church, and religion is all but taboo. However, when my parents grew up… My grandparents on both sides were extremely religious, devout Catholics. Most of my aunts and uncles on Dad's side go to Church every Sunday.  
> My father was the family’s second boy, out of 10 children. He was sent to seminary school at 8 years old (YES, they sent him to boarding school at 8, 200 miles away, from a farm with no electricity to the city) and was an ordained cleric at 18. Allegations of abuse by Catholic priests in the years he was in seminary boarding school abound. He did not escape unscathed, but he was lucky, believe me. Unsurpisingly, he defrocked pretty fast. As for mom...Before she met my dad,my mother got pregnant out of wedlock and was forced to give up her son, or her family would face excomunication. Caused a rift between her and her brother, that never fully healed. I found out about my half-brother when I was 19. Maybe I'll find him one day.
> 
> So, religion? Not popular in my family. Yet, my dad helped with the research with this fic. Still don’t know why the muse threw this at me. 
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------  
> This story is about soul searching, about peace of mind, and absolution, and nothing else. I hope you give it a chance.

 

* * *

 

Steve Mc Garrett Isn't a religious man, but on his dog tags, the inscription says Catholic.  

He was baptized as a baby, did his first communion at the age of seven, confirmation at twelve. He started to go to confession at ten, but he stopped going pretty soon after. 

Mom didn’t make him go if he felt he didn’t have to, said it was dishonest and that was wrong to start with. Catholicism was dad’s religion and half the time, he couldn’t make it to church on Sundays. 

When he turned fifteen and his mother died, after the funeral, he didn’t set foot into a church again, until he got his liver shot to pieces and found himself in the hospital’s chapel, more often than not. 

He doesn’t know why he ended up there. 

He doesn’t understand why he felt he needed to do his soul searching in a house of God. 

He doesn’t understand _why_ , on Christmas Eve, after Joe’s funeral, he’s walking into confession for the first time in over twenty years, in a church he’s never been to, in a village he doesn’t know, in a place he’s never visited. 

He enters the Confessional, closes the door and sits, barely listening to the priest’s greeting and welcoming prayer. The voice on the other side of the wood partition sounds surprisingly young, about his age. He doesn’t know why he was expecting someone older. In his memory, Catholic priests are old, withered men with white hair and wrinkled faces. 

He clears his throat, crosses himself as the sacrament requires. The gesture feels foreign but familiar, as automatic as it is strange. He lets his hand fall by his side and speaks. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been over twenty-five years since my last confession. As for my sins... There’s too many to count. I’ve spent most of my life as an active Navy SEAL, and now, I’m a law enforcement officer. I’ve killed... a lot of men. I’ve... expressed anger, lust, I’ve kept secrets, been dishonest, I've stolen, I’ve gambled... I've coveted what others have, I’ve exacted vengeance... There’s... so many things I’ve done, had to do...” 

“You were a sailor, doing duty for your country fought in war, but in doing so, you sinned against God, many, many times. Your soul bears a heavy burden, my son.” 

“I don’t think ‘I was following orders, doing my duty’ is what God wants to hear... but yeah. I... I have a lot on my conscience.” 

“And tonight, on the eve of Christ’s birth, you decided to seek absolution from your sins. Why tonight of all nights? Why now, after so long, might I ask?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t... I don’t think... I don’t know if I’m seeking absolution,” Steve murmurs, eyes lost on the carved wood panel separating them. He still doesn’t really understand why he’s here, why he decided to step inside this... box and bare his soul to a God he barely believes in, never prays to and never planned to ask forgiveness to. 

“Confessing your sins to God, asking Him to forgive them, showing contrition... to receive absolution, so your soul may be cleansed, and so you may reconcile with God... Is that not the goal of Confession, my son?” 

Steve sighs, shakes his head. “I don’t... really know why I’m here, Father. I... I, I, uh, I lost someone... someone close to me, recently and...” Maybe that’s why he’s here. Maybe he’s trying to understand why he’s faced with another senseless loss, why he was betrayed again, why it always seems to be him that fate, God, chooses to test. Maybe... maybe it’s God’s way of... punishing him for his sins. Maybe that’s the answer he’s seeking. Maybe if he asks for divine forgiveness, God will stop punishing him?  

“Loss, especially of a close loved one, makes us question our beliefs. It weighs heavily on our souls and the weight of grief makes us examine our lives, our choices, and sometimes makes us question what kind of person we are. Those questions, at times, bring a person to confession, my son. If a person believes they are a good person, who perhaps has made bad choices, but is willing to recognize the error of their ways and change, atone for their sins... Is that not the very essence of Confession? To first examine your conscience, to confess your sins, to atone for them, to make penance and to receive absolution? You are a warrior, who has, by choice, sinned, but you recognize your sins for what they are. But they trouble you. If they did not, you would not be here tonight.” 

“Can a person do what I do, be what I am, and be a good person in the eyes of God? Receive absolution? Or... or is all... the bad things that keep... happening to me... God’s way of punishing me?” 

The priest hums knowingly. “The ways of the divine are mysterious, my son, and at times, it may seem God is punishing us, especially when life is filled with hardship. But you must remember, while the Lord sends us trials, they are never more than what we can bear. Any test he puts in your path you can triumph over. God’s judgement of you will come when you face Him, not before. Until then, all I can do now is ask of you is penance for the sins you have committed. Let me ask you: I know you have killed men, but those men were not innocents. Rather, you have done so to _protect innocents_ and bring peace. Have you killed in anger, in retribution or in malice, or simply to protect innocents, or your country?” 

“I’ve done my duty with honor, Father. Still do.” 

“Do you regret taking the lives of those enemies, killing, do you regret your anger, your lies, your duplicity, your other sins, my son?” 

“I do.” 

“Then, you have nothing to fear.” 

The priest leads him through the Act of Contrition and grants him absolution. 

“Thank you, Father.” 

“You are a good man, my son. God knows his flock. He knows your soul, the true nature of what is in your heart. Go in peace. Grieve for your friend and rest easy. Christmas marks a new beginning, the light taking over the darkness. Take it for what it is; a chance for a fresh start. And try not to wait another twenty years before coming to confession again.” 

“Yes sir. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, my son.” 

He leaves the confessional with... not exactly a lighter heart. He still doesn’t know exactly why he went there in the first place. He doesn’t really feel any better. The grief over Joe’s death is still weighing just as heavily on him but maybe, just maybe he has a little, tiny bit of hope for the future. 

 

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the few who took the chance to read this story. Even before posting, I know it will be by far my least popular story ever. A) it's Danny-free. B) it contains religious elements. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, all. May you be happy and blessed all year.
> 
> If you have something negative to say about this, please keep it to yourself. It's Christmas.


End file.
